Laundry Day
by elisheva
Summary: The team is called in on an inconvient day and they try to make it more interesting.


Dr. Gregory House was _pissed_. It was a Saturday morning, games were coming on the television soon and he had planned to sit on his couch all day, drink, munch, and watch the mentioned games while explaining the plays and making fun of his friend and sometimes roommate Dr. James Wilson. 

Apparently his inconsiderate patient had other plans.

So, Greg was at work on a weekend. So, he decided to share the joy. So, he called his team in. He gave an evil glare to his youngest member who was the last to show. "How nice of you to join us, Dr. Cameron. So sorry to interrupt your Saturday outing."

Allison Cameron coolly studied her grumpy boss as she sat down in her seat at the conference table. "Nonsense. I was glad to drop everything I was doing at your beck and call."

He raised an eyebrow at her attitude and mentally congratulated himself for corrupting the nice girl so thoroughly. Ignoring his own clothing he chose to sneer at her. "Think it was casual day?"

She didn't bat an eye as she flipped her messy ponytail back and put on her glasses. "It's laundry day. Isn't there a patient that needs our help?"

House smiled fully at her. "Somebody's feisty. Did we interrupt something important?" he asked in a suggestive tone.

Her mouth turned up. "I expect retribution."

He snorted then threw the copies of notes on the current patient to his three busy bees. "Seems our patient has decided he isn't getting enough attention and wanted to try to code out today."

"What happened?" Dr. Eric Foreman asked.

"Heart-rate low enough the EKG barely read he was alive."

Dr. Robert Chase studied the report in front of him. "Dizziness was reported. Says here he was non-responsive for several minutes."

House stood and went to the white board that was considered sacred. "Good. Helps us. Now we have more symptoms."

There was a short list of symptoms on the board already lining one side of the surface. Fever, nausea, vomiting, postural hypotension, and constipation were all listed- strictly in House's hand- with Diabetes Type I on the opposite side since that was a known condition prior to the "illness". To this list House added three new items: bradycardia, SOB, vertigo.

Chase had a confused look on his face. "The patient exhibited signs of bradycardia?"

House rolled his eyes. "The patient's heart-rate was in the 40s. Which means his heart was beating slow. Which is the medical definition of bradycardia. Duh! Are you sure you passed med school?"

"You might want to check on that, House," Foreman said with a small grin. "I'm sure Cameron will help you with the actual work of it."

"Not helping," Chase hissed at him.

House whacked the board with his cane to get everyone's attention. "I'm _trying_ to do work right now. Who else wants to join me?" He waited until the boys looked properly chastised before continuing. "Just so we are all on the same page here, I wasn't name blaming when I wrote 'SOB'. I just wanted to abbreviate 'shortness of breath'. And I wrote 'vertigo' instead of 'dizziness' because all those 'z's and 's's offended me. Now, any other questions?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

House raised an eyebrow. "My dear koala, any side of the bed I have to get out of before noon on a Saturday is the wrong damn side. Anything else before we talk about why we are actually here?"

Cameron adjusted her glasses and leaned on the table. "I vote we talk about the patient, Zack Rhodes."

"Oh, is that his name?" House asked flippantly as he sat back in his vacated chair. "So, Zack or Slater or whoever was perfectly fine at the eight and nine- which is a good thing because I wouldn't have gotten up then. At ten the nurse checked on him and noted he was slightly out of breath. Not fifteen minutes later they ran back when the heart monitor started beeping incessantly.

Cameron flipped through the copy of hospital notes and took off her glasses. "You're putting it lightly. He had an episode of unconsciousness and incontinence."

House sneered. "I assumed you all could read. And, hello! The unconsciousness was caused by the bradycardia."

Chase shifted, playing with his pencil. "I think the loss of consciousness caused the lowered heart-rate."

"And I think you're an idiot," House shot back.

"Why?" the blond doctor asked. "Because I have an opinion that differs from yours?"

"No. Because your opinion is stupid."

Chase pouted. "My opinion is just as plausible as yours."

"But your opinion makes our job harder."

"So, it's automatically not right because it will be harder to diagnose? God, I would hate for our poor patients to survive because we were looking at _all_ of the medical options."

"There's only room for one sarcastic bastard on our team and I am it by default." He looked at Cameron. "Could you do something with your pet wombat?"

"He doesn't belong to me." She studied the white board. "These symptoms are too broad. I don't like it."

"What are you thinking?" Foreman asked.

"Hey!" House exclaimed. "_I'm_ team leader. _I_ ask the questions. Cameron, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking repeat EKG, echocardiogram, and a tilt-table for starters."

"Oooh, intentionally passing the patient out with the tilt-table. I like it! Go, Cameron. Go do my bidding."

She obediently stood and headed out to perform her tests, knowing House would send out her teammates when he was good and ready.

House, for his part, wasn't ready. He watched his pretty "wall art" leave before turning to Chase and Foreman. "Hundred bucks says she's wearing sexy panties."

Foreman raised an eyebrow. "Define 'sexy'."

"Thong," House said, decidedly.

"No way," Chase stated. "Laundry day? I say granny underwear."

Foreman thought for a moment. "I think Chase would know more about this subject than you, House."

"So...?"

"I going granny panties."

House snorted. "Your loss. No, go get to work on those tests. I want results ASAP." After he was left alone he stared at the board for a moment before heading to his office to do what helped him think best. He broke out his Game Boy.

He was battling an end-stage boss when his door opened. He bit his lip in concentration as he maneuvered away from the boss' tentacle but his attention was shot and his man quickly went down. He chose to take his frustration out on his interrupter.

Dr. James Wilson shrugged from his seat looking unabashed at his friend glowering at him. "What? I followed the rules. No talking."

"New rule," snapped House. "Don't enter."

"How am I supposed to know when you're playing?"

The older doctor turned his hand-held off and out it in his desk drawer. "Just always assume I'm playing."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Do you always have to be an ass?"

House thought about it for a moment. "Yes. I'm surprised you have to ask."

"It makes me feel better. What are you doing here today? It's a Saturday morning."

House groaned. "Don't remind me. My patient couldn't wait until Monday to give us new symptoms. What about you?"

"I'm always here around this time."

"Have you no life, you poor bastard?"

"No. You know that."

He snorted. "True. Well, I have some excitement for you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"I interrupted Cameron on her laundry day. What kind of underwear do you think she's wearing?"

Wilson laughed. "You would bet on anything."

"It makes life more interesting."

"How much?"

"Hundred."

"What do we have?"

House smirked, knowing he had his friend hooked in. "I said thong. Foreman and Chase say the opposite with panties too big."

"Hm." The young doctor rubbed his smooth chin. "I don't see Cameron as being one to run completely out before doing loads. I think she's wearing regular fit."

House lifted an eyebrow. "What makes you think a thong isn't normal for our little flower?"

Wilson chuckled. "You would know. You spend more time looking at her ass than we do."

"No, I don't."

"Ok," he said, not looking convinced.

House was saved from having to take the defense by his door opening once again, admitting the one they were discussing, papers in hand. He looked at the clock on his wall. "Damn, that was fast."

Cameron walked around Wilson to the side of her boss' desk to hand him the results. "You said ASAP."

"Yeah, but you guys never actually listen to me."

She didn't smile as she allowed him to read the papers. "We found nothing."

House glared up at her. "Nothing?"

"Well, nothing past what we already knew."

"You're telling me the tests that _you_ suggested were a waste of time?"

Cameron didn't like the semi-veiled accusation. "_You_ approved them!"

"What are you still doing here?" House yelled right back. "Get the hell out and get me something we can work with."

She didn't say a work but stalked out of the office.

"Don't you think--" Wilson started but House held up a hand to quiet him and they listened for a second before they heard Cameron on the other side of the door.

"That's the _last_ time I am getting yelled at because you two are too chicken to take a beating."

Chase and Foreman protested. "It was your tests," they heard Chase say.

"Because I'm not afraid to take action! You two need to grow a set!"

House grinned as Wilson once again rolled his eyes. "How proud you must be," the oncologist said in a sarcastic tone.

The older doctor sniffed. "You have no idea." He stood and reached for his cane. "Now, let me go see what she's up to. The kids hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight."

House finally found Allison Cameron in the lab by herself. She turned her head to watch him approach. "Apology accepted," she said as he leaned against a table full of lab equipment.

He smirked. "I didn't apologize."

She crossed her arms over her donned lab coat. "And you never will. But that won't stop me from being polite."

"How very tree-hugging hippyish of you," he snarked. "Where are the boys?"

"Hiding from you and me."

"It's probably for the best. What have you got for me?"

Cameron gave him an astounded look. "House, you just shouted at me not fifteen minutes ago about this same exact thing."

He bounced his cane on the floor several times before looking back at her. "That was fifteen minutes ago. I'm bored with Wilson, you're been gone, and now you're in the lab. That tells me you have something new to offer me."

Allison Cameron rolled her eyes but couldn't stop her mouth from turning up. "How mad would you be if I told you I was working on backlog?"

"I need to teach you how to be a better liar."

She turned back to her microscope but answered him. "I'm rerunning Zack's basic lab work. I know his diagnosis can't be that simple but maybe some underlying symptoms are being overlooked because of simplicity."

"You think he has lupus," House stated, causing her to laugh.

"No! But one of these days someone will have lupus and you guys will owe me big time."

House rubbed his scruffy chin. "But you do think it's autoimmune."

"Of course. It's my specialty."

While she studied her slide, House found his eyes studying her rear, looking for tell-tale signs of underwear lines but finding it hard to determine through the denim. He shifted his view when he realized his own jeans were feeling tight. "Anything?" hw asked, his voice slightly deeper than normal.

"I'll let you know."

House was back in the conference room, twirling his cane and contemplating lunch when his three flunkies came sailing in and Cameron bravely picked up a marker to write "hypothyroidism" on the board with flourish.

"Is that it?" House had to ask sarcastically.

She ignored him. "Zack--"

"Who?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "The _patient_ has been complaining of tiredness but he has problems sleeping. He's constipated and feeling weak. Coupled with the bradycardiac episode I tested the thyroid stimulating hormone."

"And found it lacking," House finished. "Why wasn't this tested before?"

Foreman answered him. "The thyroid is tricky. All the symptoms that are associated with low thyroid- tiredness, fluid retention, bowel changes, muscle weakness and aching- are all part of everyday life and are sometimes severely overlooked."

House thought about it for a moment. "You better have me some diagnoses, people. I'm not wanting to wake up early tomorrow."

"Systemic Amyloidsis," Cameron offered first.

House made a face. "Based on what?"

"If amyloid has been deposited erroneously--" she started but House interrupted her.

"Fine. It's easy enough to disprove. Next."

Cameron pouted as Chase spoke up. "What if his unconsciousness was caused by a vasovagal reaction?"

Foreman snorted. "You think he passed out because of fear. Of what?"

Chase shrugged. "People are scared of many stupid things. It also explains the vomiting and constipation."

"But not how you became a doctor," House snarled. "Next."

"Hashimoto's thyroiditis," Cameron threw out.

House raised his eyebrows. "I haven't looked too much at our patient but I'm pretty sure someone named Zack is not a woman."

"Hashimoto's can occur in men as well," she argued back.

He thought on it. "Interesting theory..."

"It also uses diabetes as a symptom and not just happenstance," Cameron explained to him.

"Hm. Anything else?"

"Septicemia explains the bowels and fever," Chase said.

Foreman jumped on that. "Have you ignored half the symptoms on the board?"

The Australian glared at him. "I haven't heard you offer out anything."

"Shy-Drager," the neurologist said.

"Well," House said, "the impotency can be easily proved if Cameron agrees to strip for the boy."

"It could be Addison's," she said, choosing to ignore the lecherous man's comment.

"Or it could be none of the above," he answered. "Do me another blood count for that fever, I want a blood electrolyte measurement and do a urinalysis to check for septicemia so Chase will stop pouting. I'll be down in the cafeteria scoring some food." They all stood. "Oh, hey, Cameron," he called as the others left.

She turned and looked at him curiously. "Yes?"

"What kind of underwear will the kid see?"

Her eyebrows went up. "What, when I supposedly strip for him?"

"Yeah."

She was silent for a moment then burst into laughter. "Did you guys bet on what my laundry day underwear would be?"

House was unashamed. "There's $400 riding on the outcome."

"I want in on the take or I won't show."

"Deal."

"I'll make you wait so your day ends on a high note." She winked at him and purposely swayed her hips as she exited the room.

Wilson passed her, turning to look as she continued walking. "What was that all about?"

"She wants in."

Wilson's eyebrows lifted. "In to what?"

"Not 'in to', 'in on'. As to say, Cameron wants in on the bet."

Wilson pulled out a chair and plopped down in it. "How is that fair? She knows what she's wearing."

"Well, I didn't _tell_ her what everybody said. That would be just wrong. But she wants a cut or she won't show her tush. And I, for one, wouldn't mind paying two hundred bucks to see Cameron's bare ass."

"Or cotton-covered one," Wilson quickly stood up for his opinion.

"Either way, it's a nice ass," House stated.

Wilson was quiet before saying, "You would do anything to win, wouldn't you."

"I would not," House protested.

Wilson argued back. "Yes, you would."

House thought about it for a moment. "Ok, you're right. I would. For _any_ bet. But how is this to my advantage?"

"I don't know, House, but if there is an advantage to be had, you will find it."

House beamed. "Thank you."

Wilson pointed to the white board. "You realize your symptoms can be anything from the common cold to any number of cancers."

His friend frowned. "You realize you give a lot of unhelpful comments that aren't asked or cared for."

"Once again you're being an ass."

"I was just imitating you and pointing out the obvious."

Wilson stood. "I'm leaving for my office. Call me when it's time to collect my money."

House smirked. "You better collect your money so you can pay up later."

* * *

"Polyendocrine deficiency," Cameron burst into the office exuberantly with Chase and Foreman following behind.

House looked up from the crossword he had been systematically working. "Gesundheit?" he offered.

Cameron slapped the lab printout in front of the older doctor. "Polyendocrine deficiency disease," she repeated.

"Schmidt's," offered Foreman at House's blank look.

"Ah! Autoimmune. Congratulations, Cameron."

"Wait," Chase said, "so is it Addison's?"

"No," Cameron answered. "Addison's can include Schmidt's but Schmidt's can also stand alone."

House smirked. "Like a square can also be a rectangle."

Cameron made a face. "Not...exactly."

He ignored her and clapped his hands once. "Ok, so what are we doing to get rid of this patient?"

Cameron told him. "There is no cure for the actually disease but we can treat his symptoms."

"And get him out of here?" House reiterated.

"Yes, we will get him out," Foreman said.

"Great. Go."

The ducklings started out of the door.

"Oh, Cameron." She stopped. "Seeing as I am about to leave it's only fair to prove your worth."

She turned to him. "Really. Because it's not the end of the day yet."

"I guess you don't want to make any money."

Cameron smirked. "Tell me the bets."

House weighed his options before answering. "Regular, thong, and oversized."

"Is that all?"

House lifted an eyebrow. "What else?"

She smirked and placed her hands on her jeans button, knowing his eyes would follow. Slowly she unbuttoned her jeans and peeled one side back to expose her bare hip bone.

"No underwear," House said in wonder.

"Nope."

"Bitch," he said without conviction as he reached for his wallet, keeping his eyes on her bare skin.

"Probably."


End file.
